


Puzzle Pieces

by van_helsa124



Category: Saw (Movies), Supernatural
Genre: Alcoholic Dean, Lawrence Gordon - Freeform, Loki - Freeform, Mechanic Dean, Police Officer Jo, Saw AU, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Supernatural Crossover, Trickster Gabriel, detective ellen, detective gabriel, drug dealer ruby, horror movie au, jigsaw traps, just rewards, police officer jody, running cas, saw crossover, spn crossover, tax accountant castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1852707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/van_helsa124/pseuds/van_helsa124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a new game going on and Detective Gabriel Novak must try and stop it before too many people fall victim to jigsaw's latest plan... meanwhile Dean, Castiel and a handful of other players must struggle to survive in their own challenges.</p><p>There will be blood, but can any of them make it out alive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Game

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up a bit after Saw: The final chapter, it helps if you've seen all of the saw films but it's not really a necessity. I know the random cutting between scenes at the begging seems random but i swear it makes sense later on, it's only while they go through their own personal traps...
> 
> I can't promise that all of your favorite characters will make it out alive...

The dripping of water roused Dean. His mind felt numb and was slow to notice the throbbing ache in his lower leg. He yanked it closer to his body only be shocked into full consciousness by a sharper pain. Ok, maybe he was panicking now. Where the hell was he? His eyes tried to focus on his surroundings but something was off. The walls seemed distorted, like he was looking at them through…  
Glass.  
He was trapped in some kind of circular glass tank. Above him a small hatch was open, letting in enough light to see by and offering the only hope of escape. He stood, taking a step forward and stopping at a sudden twinge in his leg. Dean’s eyes went wide. There was a metal bar through the skin and muscle of his calf muscle and a length of chain connected to that to keep him in place.  
“SAMMY?!” he yelled, although he was perfectly aware that calling his brother’s name would do him no good, “Where the hell am I?”  
He looked around for anyone, anything, to help him and that’s when he saw the small tape player on the cool glass at his feet. He picked it up and fumbled until he hit play.  
“Hello Dean.” A familiar voice drifted out of the speakers smoothly, “I want to play a game.”

Oh, hell no.

…

“Hello?!” Ruby called, a sob bubbling in her throat. She’d woken up in this room, no clue as to where she was, totally alone. The smell of rust and something chemical was all around her, making her want to retch. She slumped against the wall in desperation. Was she being held to ransom? Was this some kind of sick joke? Was this just a really bad trip?  
The room she was in was scarcely furnished with only a small pedestal and a TV. She studied the podium with an expression of growing horror. Five syringes were stood there in a row, all filled with clear liquid…  
Behind her the TV crackled to life. On the screen appeared a familiar face, one that she’d too many times on the news over the last few months. The pale doll stared out at her for a moment before it’s jaw slowly moved, “Hello Ruby.  
“No!” she shrieked running her fingers through her hair franticly. This couldn’t be happening… not to her!  
“You’ve spent your days in a den of squalor, injecting yourself with drugs in order to feel alive and dispensing the same poison to others. You have wasted your life but this is your chance to get it back. Four of the syringes behind you contain a concentrated dose of the poison that is already coursing through you veins, the last contains the antidote. Your job is to decide which will save your life. You have two minutes before the toxin in your system proves toxic and until the door locks forever. Will you be wise as to what you are putting in your body, or will you choose aimlessly as you have done for as long as you can remember? Let find out shall we? Let the game begin.”  
The screen fizzled to black and Ruby couldn’t help but let out a shriek as the timer on the wall started counting down in big red numbers.   
2:00  
1:59  
1:58  
She ran over to the pedestal and ran her eyes over the five needles. Though there was no way of telling them apart she still tried, picking each up and turning it in her fingers shakily.  
1:23  
1:22  
“Fuck!” she yelled, tears streaming down her face.  
1:15  
1:14  
She grabbed the second to last syringe, twisting it around before putting it back again. She couldn’t do it. She was going to die and for some reason she felt like this was all her fault.  
1:10  
1:09  
Her heart beat sped up and as the poison began to take hold of her. She bent double and coughed into her hand only to find it speckled with blood.  
1:00  
0:59  
There was no way out.  
0:57  
0:56  
Grabbing the second to last one again she plunged the needle into her arm, hoping to heaven or hell or whoever was listening that it was the right choice.  
Almost immediately though, she regretted it.  
A severe cramp ripped through her chest and she was forced to hunch over again, coughing up a substantial amount of blood this time. Ruby’s finger shook as she dropped the needle, barely hearing it smash on the concrete floor beneath her. It felt like liquid fire had been poured into her veins, igniting her senses and burning her from the inside out. She screamed but no one could hear her through the thick concrete and steel walls.  
0:20  
0:19  
Blinking she tried to dislodge the tears from her eyes.  
0:15  
0:14  
Her breath came in jagged gasps as she fought for it.  
0:11  
0:10  
With one final shudder she gave in, letting her body spasm and give up her life.  
0:04  
0:03  
0:02  
0:01  
0:00   
The locks on the door slid across, sealing her in her tomb.

…

Detective Gabriel Novak rubbed his temples, praying with everything he had that tonight was going to be a quiet one. No such luck though as Ellen’s voice crackled over his old radio- he really should have gotten new battery for that thing ages ago- sounding distinctly worried.  
“Gabe we’re gonna need you down here pretty sharpish, 55 Elkin street, over.”  
He reached down and pressed the button, “Copy Ellen, over.”  
This was going to be a long night. He could tell.

The crime scene was already heavily taped up when he arrived. Uniformed officers scurried to and fro; trying to push back the crowd that had gathered and make sure that forensics wasn’t disturbed. He could see just from the looks on their faces that something was different about this one. They all seemed subdued and the youngest, Alfie, looked like he was going to throw up.  
Ellen met him at the door to the abandoned building; she tossed her hair behind her shoulder and fixed him with a sturdy glare. “We need to catch this sick bastard, Gabe.”  
His raised an eyebrow, “The Candied Killer again?”  
“Worse. Jigsaw.”  
“You’re shitting me.”  
She shook her head. “Kramer may be dead and Hoffman may be in the wind, but it seems someone out there is still killing. You’re gonna wanna take a look at this.”  
Gabriel followed his partner into the building and past the techies taking photographs and mapping the crime scene. When they came to it the body was that of a young woman with striking red hair. “Is that Abaddon?” he asked sceptically, taking a step closer to investigate the device she was strapped into. There wasn’t really much of her cranium left though. “The Fashion designer?”  
“The queen of her trade,” Ash muttered popping up beside them with his camera, “The device was on a timer, and if she didn’t press the button in time the metal ring… crown… was forced down into her skull. Obviously she failed this guy’s test.”  
The detective frowned, “What would have happened if she had pressed the button?”  
“She was obsessed with power, man. Pressing that thing would have sent a large jolt of electricity through her. She’s grounded so it wouldn’t have been enough to kill, but it still would have done some serious damage.” Ash shrugged, snapping another photo.   
“And that’s not all either.” Ellen muttered, leading them round and into the next room where a piece of paper rested on the table.   
It simply read: Gabriel Novak, let the games begin.  
Gabriel sighed, “Hasn’t everyone else that’s been called out ended up dead?”  
“That’s why we’re placing you under special police watch.”  
He held up his hand. “Yeah… I don’t think so. Jill Tuck was in police protection and she ended up getting her jaw ripped open anyway. Not that she didn’t have it coming, but it doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence if you catch my drift?” everyone simply looked away so he continued, “Besides, I’d rather work the case than get talked into sitting on my ass all day.”  
“Fine Gabriel we get it, but until this guy’s under wraps you’re off the Loki case, superiors’ orders. Only one major case at a time.” Ellen grunted.  
He pouted, “Fine. You get anything Ash?”  
“Nothing yet.”  
“Then keep looking.”

…

Dean held his breath as the tape continued, wishing with all his might that he was back in bed with Lisa with Ben bitching at the door because it was time for school and his lazy ass parent were still in bed.  
“…Ever since your father died you’ve been living in the bottom of the bottle, caring about nothing but your brother. On a regular day you’re not fit to stand never mind respect your life. You’re family and friends have grown distant as you’ve pushed them away and soon you will be left with nothing but yourself. Everything you do is centred around Sam and his needs, but never your own. Are you strong enough to get back to the rest of your family Dean? All you have to do is climb out of the bottle before the time runs out and the hatch is sealed forever. Sam is the one that that’s keeping you down Dean… let him go. As soon as the timber starts you will have ten minutes to escape and climb through the hole, that’s how long it takes for the container to completely fill with the liquid you love so much. Let the game begin.”  
“Fuck!” Dean swore and dropped the player.  
Sure enough eight pipes connected to the glass at intervals above him. The only warning he got was a few drips before each one roared to life, pumping litre upon litre of liquid into his face.   
It wasn’t water though. It was dark and rich and stung Dean’s leg where the bar pieced it.  
“That’s the last time I drink bloody beer!” he snorted yanking on his chain.

If he couldn’t break free he’d drown in no time.

Fuck.


	2. To Find The Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game continues and Gabriel gets a lead...

Crowley jolted awake. He lay on his back for a moment before the chemical haze of the drug he’d been given started to recede; not really wanting to look around for fear of what he might find when he did. The feeling of cold metal against his neck startled him. His hands flew up to find that he was now wearing a steel collar, a padlock kept it firmly in place.  
“Bollocks!” he swore fiddling with a rope that was tied to him via the collar. This was the last thing he bloody needed. Crowley had a list of enemies a mile long but he couldn’t think of anyone sick enough to do this to him.   
The room he was in looked like something from an abandoned hospital with an old gurney and rails across the ceiling for curtains that had long been removed. Dust and grime covered every surface and pools of water lingered on the floor. Out of desperation he grabbed a hold of the rope attached to his collar and followed it across the room, moving an old cabinet out of the way.  
There in front of him was a bulky contraption to which the rope seemed to have been fed into. Inside he could see gears and a small drum that the end of his leash as being wrapped around. The idea of the machine looked pretty simple and Crowley had a pretty good idea of what it was meant to do.  
On top of it he found a small tape player.  
“Hello Crowley, this may or may not surprise you but I want to play a game. The aim of the game is simple… survive. You make your living destroying other’s lives, so here is your chance to fight for your own. When the timer starts you have one minute before the device you are attached to reels in your rope, collecting a long overdue payment for your sins. Over the years you have made millions from lending and excessive interest, to free yourself all you have to do is type into the key pad the exact amount you are owed by your current victims- the real amount, not the one you claim to be short. Do this and you will live, but enter the wrong answer and you will die. Let the game begin.”  
On the front of the contraption a stopwatch began to count down showing him exactly how much time he hand left.  
Out of desperation he yanked on the rope trying to pull it free but it was no use. His mind reeled as he tried to remember exactly how many people he had made deals with and were still alive… the list was ominously short. He knew how much he said they owed him, but how much had he lent them?  
He ran it through; there was Rufus, Bobby, Alfie, Tessa, Adam… twelve in total.  
“30 seconds left…” Crowley muttered out load as he added up the sums, crunching the numbers as fast as he could, trying not to make one mistake.  
15 seconds left.  
“AH!” he grunted rushing forward to slam the number into the keypad. When it was done a key dropped onto the floor which he scrambled to pick up and jam into the padlock at his neck.  
5 seconds left.  
He twisted the key and the pad lock jumped free, the collar falling to the ground. But before it could hit the floor the rope snapped tort, yanking it into the device and spinning as the contraption came to a slow halt.  
His hands ran through his hair as he panted, “Fuck.”

…

His hands started to cramp up as he continued to go over the case files of all of the other jigsaw victims. The name jigsaw was starting to become a title and that was something that put a knot in Gabriel’s stomach. There were so many victims… it was hard to take it all in.  
The handful of survivors he’d come across where all wrecks that were slowly, one by one, starting to realise that their lives were better after what they’d been through and that disturbed Gabriel almost as much as the pictures of the victims who hadn’t made it. He agreed that the evil should pay, but not this way. This felt wrong in so many ways.  
Ellen was unusually stressed, though he could really blame her. His partner had never been on a case like this before. Sure they’d both taken down some pretty dodgy serial killers, but nothing on this level. Jigsaw was a notorious as they came and even though he was dead, he still lived on through his accomplices, to which there seemed to be an infinite number.  
A coffee materialised in front of him and he looked up to see Jody with a tray of them. She smiled as she also placed a small bag of pastries down in front of him and Ellen, “Looked like your two could use some fuel. Can’t keep running on vapours, especially you Gabe.”  
Ellen smiled back, relieved, “Thanks Jody, you’re a real life saver.”  
Jody nodded and went to leave but before reached the door she span back round, “Oh I almost forgot! Ash called, said something about you giving him a call. I think he found something at that last jigsaw crime scene.”  
Gabriel was already pulling out his phone, “Thanks again Jody.”  
Ash answered on the second ring, “Forensics, you make a scene, we know it ain’t clean. What can I do ya for?”  
“You got something for us, kiddo?”  
“Ah, Gabe. Yeah I found a sticker on one of bars on Abaddon’s trap, it’s for something called ‘Edlund Construction’ probably worth a look into a guess.” He cleared his throat, “I hope that’s helpful.”  
Gabriel smirked, “It’s great Ash, thanks.” He put the phone down and turned to his partner, “We’ve got a lead. Edlund Construction, ring a bell?”  
She paled, “That’s the warehouse next to where they found John Kramer’s body isn’t it?”  
“Do I wanna ask how you know that?  
“It’s in the file right here,” she said rummaging around for the right one, and pointing to the address “here, it’s abandoned. The police searched it too but found nothing. Maybe we’ll have some more luck.”

…

Charlie blinked awake and stretched her arms out wide. Her fingers touched something furry and she yanked them back in horror. The rat scurried of into a hole in the wall and she watched it go with wide eyes.  
That was a point. Where was she?  
The room was empty apart from a small computer and a cardboard box. The screen of the computer blinked for second before a face appeared. Charlie may watch more films than actual TV but she still recognised it from the few scraps of the news she had seen.   
“Hello Charlie.” The voice said through the crackly speakers on the monitor, “You’ve spent your life behind a computer screen, living in a virtual world of code and numbers and never truly valuing your existence. Today though, we are going to change that. The rules of the game are simple. In the box there are a number of floppy disks. You may insert any of them into the drive by only one will unlock the door. Choose wisely as you only have one minute to find the correct disk. Fail to find it and this room will be your tomb. Can you escape your computer world, or will it all prove too much for you? The timer starts now.”  
Sure enough in the corner of the monitor a countdown of 60 seconds started. She watched it for a moment before grabbing the box and emptying the contents onto the floor. There were probably about fifty disks, nearly three times as many as she could try in the time she was given.   
“Oh, crap-balls…” she muttered staring at them in horror.  
Her fingers skittered through them, looking for anything that could give away the one she needed. They were all different colours and all had different labels on them for various software and programs. None stood out but she kept looking any way. Just slipping random ones into the slot would probably be just wasting time.  
20 seconds left.  
Eventually she just gave in and tried one in the drive. Of course it was the wrong one.  
10 seconds left.  
There out of the corner of her eyes she spotted it. It was HER floppy disk, the one she kept her family photos on. She grabbed it and pushed it into the slot. The computer whirred for a millisecond before the sound of the door opened and she sprinted for it, just slipping through before it slammed shut again and the locks slit into place.

…

The beer had now reached Dean’s waist. A whimper bubbled from his chest as he tried to yank his leg free but to no avail. It was useless. He was going to die. There was no way out.

“SAMMY!” he screamed punching the glass. There had to be a way.

There just had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do not judge me for the next chapter...


	3. Tough Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some tough choices are made...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please forgive me!

Metatron struggled to keep his balance on the platform, below him the pit was filled with sharp metal spikes that all looked like they had at least a decade’s worth of rust. Around his neck he’d found a tape player but hadn’t built up the courage to play it yet. He really didn’t think he wanted to know what was on it either.  
When he eventually did talk himself into pressing play he wasn’t surprised to hear the voice that flowed out of the speaker.  
“Hello Metatron. I take it you already know why you’re here. For years you’ve manipulated those around you into falling for your plans, fulfilling your own selfish needs. Today you have the chance to save yourself from falling, but can you do it? You’ve grown fat on the fruits of your influences, but can you lift your own weight? Above you there is a rope which you may use to swing across the pit and save yourself. Do not hesitate, for every second you wait the platform you stand on will recede further into the wall, making the jump more difficult. Are you in for a fall Metatron? Let the game begin.”  
“You bastard!” he shouted throwing the player at the wall and watching it smash.  
The sound of gears cranking roused him from his anger though. The platform below him began to slowly disappear. He fumed for a second rubbing his hands together. He couldn’t make it. There was no way he could make that jump, perhaps if he had jump a few seconds ago than maybe but with every moment the jump go larger…  
“HELP!” he screamed, inching back from the edge.  
A whimper escaped his lips as his heels hit the wall behind him. The edge approached but he couldn’t go anywhere. He was trapped.  
“No, no, no, no, no, no…”  
As the platform disappeared from under his feet he fell forwards with a scream. The short drop was ended by a sickening thud. The spikes pieced his body in multiple places, turning the thin layer of water below him a dark, ruby red.

The only sound after that was the bang as the door on the other side slammed shut.

…

Kevin struggled to free himself from the chair he was strapped into but it felt useless. His head and body was padlocked in place with leather cuffs and bonds- his arms still free to move around.   
It wasn’t the straps that worried him though. A contraption was set directly before him; it seemed to have a direct purpose that was blatantly obvious. It was constructed of gears and cogs and metal bars but at the front two hot metal spikes glowed menacingly at eye level not a foot away. He couldn’t move his head but he could see that a TV was set up next to him. Across the room the door was closed but not locked, he could just about make out the sliders that were still pulled back.  
He tried to reach forward, to grab something, anything that he could use to get free but the sound of the TV fizzling stopped him. He looked down to find a doll’s face staring up at him.   
“Hello Kevin.” It said slowly, “Many would argue that you do not deserve to be here. That you are being dragged into a world that is not your own, but I would beg to differ. You spend every night with your nose in a book, studying, watching your teenage years pass by without really appreciating them for what they are. Yes you have a girlfriend, but do you really care about her Kevin? Have you ever even held her hand? You have been brainwashed into thinking that the only way you can get by in life is by shutting out the simple joys and doing exactly what your teacher instructs, even if it means sacrificing your mental health and exhausting yourself five days a week. To get out of this alive you simply have to answer one question and type it into the keypad which will drop down in just a moment. That question is as follows Kevin: what colour were your girlfriend’s contacts last night when you saw her? Can you remember, or were to too busy thinking about the maths exam in a week to care? You have around 30 seconds before the heated spikes pierce your eyes. Making you unable to see anything ever again. Think carefully Kevin. You have very little time.”  
The screen cut to static and the tears were already falling from the corners of his eyes. Channing had brown eyes but the voice had been right, last night her eyes had been different. Kevin struggled to remember as the two spikes slowly started to creep closer. He could feel the heat already.  
Digging his nails into the wood of the chair’s arm he closed his eyes and tried so desperately to remember. She’d mentioned it, pointed it out. Yet he’d had his nose in his maths text book. He hadn’t paid attention.  
When he opened his eyes again the spikes were right there. He screamed and slammed his eyes shut again but there was nothing he could do as the spikes slowly pieces his lids, burning as they went.  
He spammed for a moment before going still.

Across the room the lock son the door slid across.

…

The heat woke Castiel. His blinked his eyes open not quite sure what he was seeing before them. The chemicals that’d used to drug him made his mind idle. He shook his head to clear it and stood unsteadily. Before him a long corridor stretched out but there was something about the floor…  
He blinked again, this time the world shifted into focus. The floor for of the corridor was covered in a layer of coals and embers that either glowed red or a dull grey. Every few metres or so a fame sprung up before quickly dying down again.  
He wasn’t stupid; he knew what he was supposed to do. He could see the door at the other end and knew that the one behind him was locked. On the wall next to him a tape recorder hung on a string. He tore it down and studied it for a moment- making sure it wasn’t going to explode or something- before pressing the play button. Whatever was going on there he figured that the tape would explain. As far as he knew he didn’t have any enemies that would go to such length as this.  
“Hello Castiel.” The tape started. “I want to play a game. You’ve spent your days running, running from what you saw your brother do all those years ago, not living your life as you should. The task before you is one that will be made all the more painful by running. I take it you can feel the heat radiating from the corridor before you? The path you must walk Castiel is precisely 95 metres long, longer distances have been walked but you are no professional. Pain doesn’t have to be expected if you follow the rules. But remember, you have two minutes before the door at the end of the corridor locks forever. If you are going through hell keep going because, if you stop, you’ll be stuck there. Others have died because of what you failed to report to the police. Will you be one of them? Let the game begin Castiel.”   
Castiel gulped, looking at the edge of the coals before him in horror. He could do this. He could do this. He could do this. He couldn’t do this.  
He turned away and rubbed his face, suddenly kind of glad that whoever had put him here had removed his clothes and left him in his boxers. If his clothes caught fire he’d go up like a candle. No more Castiel. No more tax accountant.  
Thinking hard he tried to remember the basics of fire walking. Uh… no running, heel toe, quickly, light steps… At the end of the corridor he could just about see a countdown in big red numbers above the door.   
He set off at walking pace. Surprisingly his feet didn’t burn, within 30 seconds he was nearly half way to the end. But that’s when things started to go wrong. His mind kept telling him to run, that he didn’t have time to walk. He looked up at the clock in panic and failed to notice a slightly larger lump of coal in his path. His foot struck it and he stumbled, unable to catch himself before he went down.  
The red-hot coals burnt his arm and side; the blisters had already started to rise under the thin layer of ash on his skin as he struggled to his feet, hands getting seared by the embers as he pushed up.  
“Fuck!” he yelled in agony, tears streaming down his cheeks.  
He stood there a moment before the excruciating pain in his feet from standing still reached his mind. He stumbled forward again. This should have been simple. He could have gotten out with minor burns, but his stupid mind had told him to watch the time, to go faster.  
He looked up at the clock again as he continued forward.  
30 seconds.  
He was almost there. Just a few more metres…  
The feel of cold concrete on his feet was almost as much of a relief as reaching the end. On the door hung a key attached to a string. He pulled it down but the door was unlocked so he simply looked it round his wrist and yanked open the door… free of that hellhole.

…

Dean tried again to free himself from the chain as the brown liquid reached his chest, but again he couldn’t do it. The level was still rising quickly, and he was pretty sure he was going to end up drunk if he stayed in there for too long. Although dying drunk seemed to be a much better alternative than dying perfectly sober.  
As the beer reached his chin he held up his head gasping for air, trying to fill his lungs as much as possible to the last second. He could see it now Sammy standing over his grave, looking down on him in disgust, for not having the strength to pass jigsaw’s test like the survivors on the news. But that’s what they were… survivors. Dean on the other hand has always been one to give up whatever he had for his brother, food, clothes, anything. His whole life he’d watched over his brother, never having a life of his own, finding the only comfort for his terrible existence in the bottom of a beer bottle. And it was that thought that seemed to give Dean a sudden burst of energy.   
He had a life and that was something to be grateful for, but until now he hadn’t seen it. He’d been too busy worrying about Sammy, raising him to be the best man he could possibly be. What Dean hadn’t seen was that his brother had his own life. He didn’t need him anymore. Dean had been free for a long time. The responsibility had been dragging him away the things that mattered.  
As he took one last breath the alcohol washed over his head, cutting him off from the air above him. Reaching down he felt the bar in his leg and slammed his eyes shut. He knew what he had to do, he was just dreading it.  
With a strong wrench he managed to pull himself free, but the pain of the motion almost made him scream. He stopped himself with his hand though. If he screamed he would take in a lung full of beer.  
Kicking as hard as he could, Dean managed to break the surface to find that the level had nearly reached the ceiling. He reached up and grabbed a hold of the edge of the hatch, hauling himself through with every last ounce of energy he had left.  
He flopped onto the cold concrete floor of the room above just as the hatch swung closed, sealing the tank off.  
“Holy shit…” he muttered closing his eyes for a second. Not really caring about the pain in his leg or the fact that he was losing blood.

He was alive.

He’d mad it.


	4. Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel follows up on Ash's lead and the survivors meet for the first time.

Gabriel and Ellen entered the building along with at least a dozen swat officers, silent and well aware that they were being watched. Tensions were already high enough and the sudden abundance of security cameras in a supposedly abandoned factory was starting to raise the hairs on each of their necks.  
Without a word they split to search the building. Gabriel made sure that he and his partner remained in the same group; getting separated could be dangerous, especially considering these killers’ past achievements. He doubted jigsaw’s latest accomplice would try anything this early in the game but traps weren’t of the question- that and he didn’t want Ellen’s husband Bobby on his case any time soon.  
So far they’d found next to nothing and that worried Gabriel. It was a bad sign. It felt like they were being played with and he knew only too well the consequences of that.  
They searched room after room, corridor after corridor until they got to the basement. The lower level had been converted into a kind of workshop with plans and tool spread everywhere. After taking a look at only a couple of the blueprints Gabriel was already starting to feel sick. There was everything a person could want to build a jigsaw trap and more laid out across the tables and enough evidence to put somebody away for a very long time, but who that was he wasn’t sure.  
“Gabe… come and take a look at this,” Ellen said from across the room, “I think we better start making some calls…”  
He came over and there, on the wall, was a board with seven names and mug shots. Underneath them were more pictures, more names, romantic interests, business partners, family members, victims… all leading down to one man.  
“That’s not good,” he muttered, recognising a handful of the people.  
Ellen picked up something from the table below them and held it up. It was a small digital timer with bright red numbers counting down. “What do you think it means?”  
Right then the countdown was at 05.45.09.  
“I think,” Gabriel said looking round the room, “that that’s how long we have before this game ends and if we don’t do something I get the feeling that there’s gonna be a who load shit to clean up afterwards. You get back to the station and start looking into these people. I’m not so sure we’re gonna be finding any of them at home though.”  
“You and me both. Call me if you find anything here.” She ordered turning and leaving him standing, watching the timer.

“We got a sealed door over here!” one of the swat team called out from across the basement.  
Gabriel turned and, sure enough, they were still struggling with a door in the corner. It was bulky and made of steel, like a bank vault, and there was very little chance of them actually getting through it without losing a few fingers.  
A locked door was always something to worry about but at that time he had trouble caring. He wasn’t even particularly worried about the latest round of contestants on the walls. If there was one thing jigsaw had been very clear about during all the previous ordeals it was that they had to save themselves. If they followed the rules and did everything asked of them they would survive, albeit very traumatized, but they would make it though. He just had to hope that they were strong enough to do what was necessary. Right now the most important thing was finding the new accomplice and locking them up for a very long time.  
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Gabriel’s attention. In a hallway leading off of the main basement someone moved again, causing a quiet clang. He drew is gun and stepped out to investigate, 99% sure that no swat or forensics guy would be running about down there. The corridor was empty. But the sound of footsteps still echoed around him.  
Someone collided with his back and he went down with a yelp.  
“Jesus dude, watch where you’re… Oh, sorry detective Novak!”  
Gabriel’s heart hammered in his chest. “Alfie what the hell do you think you’re doing?”  
“I was just getting something for the forensics guys… are you ok? You look a little pale.” The young officer studied him for a moment before grabbing the bag he’d been carrying and stepping back into the workshop to help out the people already working in there.  
“Kid’s going to give me a heart attack.” Gabriel muttered turning back to make sure that no one had seen that.  
A sharp pain in the back of his neck interrupted his thoughts. He tried to scream but it was no use. There wasn’t any escape from the drug that was now in system. His gun dropped to the ground and everything went black…

…

“Easy there brother,” was the calming voice that came with the hand on Dean’s shoulder. He ground his teeth at the feeling of something being tied around his leg to stop the bleeding in his calf, “It’s Dean right? Dean I need you to calm down.”  
Opening his eyes he looked up to find another man hovering over him, just finishing tying his shirt around Dean’s leg. “Who are you and how the fuck do you know my name?”  
The other man looked at him for a second before pointing to the trapdoor. “Your name was on your door,” he held out a hand, “I’m Gadreel, but under these circumstances I think you can just call me Zeke.”  
Dean accepted the hand and stood to find that there were more people in the room than he’d thought. There was a guy in a suit and a guy in just his boxers with some serious looking burns and a redheaded girl in a star wars t-shirt. Five total.  
None of them looked in great health but the guy in the boxers would probably need a hell of a lot of treatment if he survived. Zeke didn’t look that great either, he’s torn off strips of his undershirt and tied them around his head as a kind of bandage to shield his left eye, which seemed to be bleeding heavily.  
His own leg had slowed it’s bleeding now although he didn’t feel like he could walk on it with the muscle shredded like it was. Dean looked around. The room they were in had eight doors leading off in different directions; all but one had a name spray painted in bright red across them. “So,” he asked swallowing audibly, “who’s who?”  
The guy in the suit came forward and spoke in a dull English accent, “I’m Crowley, burns boy is Castiel,” Castiel punctuated that by flipping him the bird, Crowley continued, “and the girl is Charlie.”  
Charlie came over and shook his hand. “Dude you smell like a brewery.”  
“Bastard tried to drown me in beer.” Dean spat limping over to a free corner and sliding down the wall. “So you’ve all been through it right? What now?”  
Castiel’s jaw set. “Play the tape Charlie.”  
She nodded and produced a tape player from her pocket. She pressed play and the recording started…  
“Congratulations to you who are gathered. You’ve passed your first test unlike some others, who I’m sure you are aware, are missing. This next test is one of communication, you are all connected but it’s your job to figure out just how. All of you have trouble with communicating, some lie, some conceal your feelings and others run from the truth. But can you work together to assure your release? I’ll leave that up to you, but be quick. You have five minutes from the time this tape ends. Let the game begin.”  
Above the door the countdown started.  
“Ok,” Charlie started looking round the room nervously. And pulling a small bag from her pocket she emptied in onto the floor to reveal a set of sixteen letters with small plugs on the back, “These letters presumably spell out what connects us and in order to open the door we’ve got to plug them in the door in the right order.”  
Castiel looked up from where he was sitting, wincing once as he moved, “I suggest we start but telling everyone a little bit about ourselves.”  
Charlie nodded, “Ok, um… My name’s Charlie Bradbury and I… I’m a computer hacker who used to work for RRE but kina got fired…”  
“My names Crowley, I’m a business man who runs a small loans company with a partner of mine…”  
Dean spat on the floor, “You’re a loan shark, should’ve guessed.”  
“What about you Dean?” Crowley sneered, looking down at the younger man. “I hardly think that’s talk from someone who smells like they’ve just crawled out of a bar at three in the morning.”  
Dean glared back but Castiel interrupted, “No fighting! This is only gonna get us killed and we all heard what jigsaw said. It’s play by the rules or end up dead…” he paused to wince, “…my name’s Castiel Novak, I’m a tax accountant and I come from a large family.”  
Charlie looked over at Zeke, “You got a reason why you’re here?”  
He nodded, “My name’s Gadreel Milton and I am a security guard… well I was until I led in a delivery that wasn’t actually a delivery. I let someone in without checking them properly and the place got robbed. I was too trusting. That’s why I’m here.”  
“What about you Dean?”  
Dean looked up and pushed his lips. He studied the damage to his leg before looking at the floor. “Hi my name’s Dean Winchester,” the whole room seemed to freeze at that, “and I’m a mechanic and an alcoholic. I’ve got a relatively small family, two brothers- Sam and Adam-, a fiancée and a son. My parents died when I was four. Happy now?”  
Everyone’s eyes were wide as they glanced around at each other. The tension was suddenly almost audible.  
“Winchester,” Crowley spat, “I should have bloody known it!”  
“That’s it! That’s how we’re linked.” Charlie yelped already arranging the pieces.  
Dean frowned, “I don’t know any of you.”  
“I do believe it’s Sam that links us.” Castiel said resting his head against the wall, “It was a Samuel Winchester who helped me set up a new identity ‘Emmanuel’ when I first started to settle down.”  
Charlie looked up from her work, “Your brother was the layer that got me off my charges with my old company. He pulled a few loop holes and stopped them from pressing charges.”  
Dean’s eyes went wide, “No. Sammy wo-couldn’t do that, not the Sam I know.”  
Crowley chuckled. “You really don’t know your brother at all do you?”  
“Whatever you’re implying I don’t want to know.”  
“Moose is my business partner, Squirrel. That brother of yours is quite a piece of work when he want to be you know.” Crowley laughed.  
Zeke frowned, “Did you just refer to Dean as Squirrel?”  
“That I did. No how’s it he door going? We’re at one minute left.”  
“I’m giv‘in her all she’s got captain!” came the reply from the door as the last piece clicked into place and the door swung open.  
Dean struggled to his feet and limped over as everyone moved onto the next room. He was still fuming but he let it slide. If he ever made it out of this, he and Sammy were going to be having a nice long chat about his brother’s hobbies.  
As he left though, he noticed a name on one of the doors- RUBY.  
Castiel looked up at him as he struggled to his feet. “What is it?”  
“Nothing…”

They all got through the door just as it slammed shut and locked behind them.


	5. Atlas Complex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can they handle the weight of the world?

Castiel slumped against the wall as soon as they were through the doorway, his burnt feet becoming too painful to stand on. Dean watched him worriedly. If they were supposed to work together it could be disastrous if one of them couldn’t pull is own weight.  
The room they were in was smaller than the last with a row of strange contraptions along the opposite wall, eight of them in total. Each had two padded bars about half a foot apart that were connected to a series of pulleys and weights. The devices looked like something you’d find in a gym- not that Dean ever went to the gym, preferred manual labour.  
Charlie approached the closest one and examined it. Her eyes widened as she realised what they were meant for. “These are shoulder pads… we’re supposed to support the weights with our shoulders.”  
Crowley frowned, “What on earth is the point of that?”  
“Here.” Gadreel said handing him the tape player he’d found.  
They gathered round as Crowley pushed the play button.   
“To complete this challenge each of you must do what, in your own way, you have avoided throughout your life. The devices before you are designed to put the weight of the world on your shoulders. But, ‘what is the point of this?’ you may wonder. Maybe I should have told you this sooner, but there is a slow acting poison coursing through your veins. If you can successfully lift the weights for thirty minutes the cure for the toxin will be lowered through the ceiling,” sure enough there were eight holes above them, “but be warned. If you drop or put down the device at any time, more weight will be added, making it harder to complete the challenge. Can you carry the responsibility you’ve all been avoiding your whole lives? Can you lift your own burdens? You have forty-five minutes. Good luck.”  
Castiel looked like he was going to faint, standing for that long would be next to impossible with his burns. He couldn’t stand for just a few minutes never mind half an hour with weights on his shoulders. Dean and Charlie exchanged worried glances as he stumbled over to the contraption with his name sprayed across the front.  
Within a minute everyone was in place and looking to each other for support. It wasn’t that bad at first, Dean barely felt it, but as the time went on he could feel his muscles straining against the burden. His injured leg complained bitterly.  
To no one’s surprise Castiel slumped within the first six minutes- the only shock was that he’d lasted that long. None of them expected him to make it through this. It was sickening though in the base of all their stomachs, but it was true. They knew Castiel was doomed to fail this test.  
“You can do it buddy!” Charlie encouraged from where struggled with her own challenge, “Think of it like…”  
“Like what? Like he’s fighting for his life? Well surprise, he is!” Crowley snapped.  
At first it looked like Castiel was out, but hope filled them as as he managed to get back up and continue, albeit slightly more strained than before.   
Above them a timer counted down how long until the door locked and in front of them, on the opposite wall, each of them had a separate timer to tell them how long they had left to endure. Crowley’s stopped suddenly as he pulled away panting. “How the hell am I supposed to do this for half an hour? I’d probably break my back before then!”  
“Well then you break your back!” Dean spat, starting to feel the strain more himself, “That’s the point of all this, to test you. If you don’t do this Crowley you fail!”  
The Englishman swore and looked at their timers; most of them were already at the ten minute mark. He picked up his own after another minute’s break, to everyone’s delight. He might be a pain in the ass but the whole group could tell he was smart enough to be an asset to them.  
With a huff Castiel slumped forward again, the lights of his clock shutting off.  
“Cas,” Dean warned and the older man frowned at his new nickname, “you have to get back on there or you won’t get your antidote.”  
“I can’t.”  
Dean wanted to go to him but couldn’t for fear of his own heft increasing. “Yes you can.” He looked franticly at Charlie and Zeke to help and they seemed to get the message pretty quickly.  
Charlie cheered in agreement, “Yeah, you can do Cas!”  
Zeke just nodded along focusing on not focussing.  
“Ok…”

…

The buzzing in Gabriel's head wasn’t as bad as it had been but it was still distracting as he pulled himself to his feet. He could practically taste the drug they’d used on his tongue. What the hell was it with evil minions and horse tranquiliser? Couldn’t they just have hit him over the head like ordinary henchmen?  
“Seriously?” he complained, noticing the belt he’d been fitted with while he was out.  
It wasn’t the leather one he was wearing. No this one was steel and contained a series of small oblong containers that emitted an ominous green glow; two padlocks were used to keep it in place around his waist.  
Around him the basement was empty. The techies and forensics guys seemed to have deserted the place, which was strange in itself. They would usually hang around for at least a day to make sure they’d collected all the evidence they could from a vital crime scene like this. It was eerie to be alone in a place that had been a hive of activity when he’d been ambushed. The countdown on the side had jumped from nearly six hours to just under one, which surprised Gabriel.   
He’d been out for roughly five hours.  
What the hell had happened in that time?  
An old TV in the corner with a crack screen and loose cables coming out the side sparked to life. They’d all thought it to be broken because of its condition but apparently that didn’t stop it from getting better reception than his TV at home.  
Instead of the black and white doll, Gabriel was treated to someone else, someone he recognised from every TV report and new paper article over the last year and a half. On the screen the face of John Kramer stared at him with knowing eyes, a small smile touching the corners of the dead man’s lips. “Hello Detective Novak.”  
Ok, now Gabriel’s moth went dry. This was the last thing he needed.   
“I’ve watched you from afar for a very long time and I must say I’m impressed. You are one of the few people I would class as an equal… well I would if our beliefs didn’t clash quite so violently. After one of my test subjects went missing before I could rehabilitate them, I decided to look into the event and, surprise, surprise, I happened upon your work. Not bad I’ll give you that, but you fail to grasp the basics of human nature.” He paused to cough and take a sip of water. “I specialise in rehabilitating, making them see the error of their ways, while you on the other hand, punish and kill. Killing is distasteful. Today we shall see if you have what it takes to survive. Around the belt at your waist are a series of explosives, your aim is to remove it before they detonate. To do so you will need the keys that can be gained after completing my challenges. Let the games begin.”  
Above the door to the corridor where he’d been ambushed an arrow blinked, showing him the way. With a curse he went for his gun only to find it gone. Great, he was gonna have to go in unarmed.   
This is going to be fun, he though sarcastically, knowing full well that the next hour of his life as going to be a bitch.

…

Ellen arrived back at the station after speaking to Castiel’s mother. Apparently she hadn’t seen her son in a number of years and had pretty much disowned the guy- just what every homicide detective wanted to hear.  
To make things worse someone had reported a major gas leak in the building where they’d discovered the latest jigsaw workshop. They were still waiting for the hazard guys to sort out the problem and the FBI was now starting to breathe down their necks. Both sides had lost more than they’d admit and it was a tough time.  
Alfie rushed up to her with his arms full of files, dumping a handful on her desk. “Hi detective Singer, here’s what we got on Edlund Construction… According to records it was owned by some guy named Carver Edlund…”  
“Which turned out to be an alias for a Mr Chuck Shurley.” Ash interrupted coming round the corner with a large grin on his face. “And I shit you not when I tell you that this guy is related to the main man himself.”  
Ellen’s eyes widened, “You’re telling me that this guy’s related to John Kramer?”  
“Yep, he’s the younger brother. John was born before mommy and daddy married, Chuck came later.” He smirked flipping his hair back.  
“Wait,” Ellen looked around them, “has anyone heard from Gabriel?”  
Alfie rocked back on his heels, “I saw him leave the basement shortly after you did. He said something about a lead from Kali down in traffic…”  
“Kali isn’t at work today.” Ash muttered, looking between them. “Oh god, he’s in trouble isn’t he?”  
With a huff Ellen picked up her gun and badge, stuffing them into her pocket, “Either he’s in trouble, or he’s going to be. Do we have an address on this Chuck Shurley?”  
“Yep…”  
A piece of paper was pulled from one of the files and presented.  
She studied it for a second, “Ok, let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while to upload... the next one might take a while too...


	6. A Little Help From A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel his forced to make the toughest choice of his life...

A buzzer sounded as Gadreel and Charlie’s timers reached zero and their weights were cut loose. Dean had stopped once to rest his leg but his finished only a couple of minutes after. The antidotes descended from the holes in the ceiling on pieces of wire, stopping just in front of their faces as they stumbled forward after their ordeals.  
Crowley and Castiel were still going.  
They had about ten minutes till the door closed but that was fine because Castiel only had about eight minutes to go- Crowley on the other hand had just under ten. None of them held much hope for him. He looked the worst out of all of them. His skin was a light green and his knees shook almost violently, you could almost see the way his chest pained him every time he breathed.  
Dean sat on the hard concrete and studied the clear liquid in his syringe. He’d been starting to feel ill for the last quarter of an hour and he knew it probably wouldn’t be long before poison actually did any permanent damage. Across from him Charlie stuck her needle into her own arm and he chose to follow suit. It was probably better to do it together than alone.  
They all jumped as Castiel slumped to the floor before his device, his timer four minutes away from completion.  
“Dude you’re not finished!” Dean yelped, his eyes shooting to the clock.  
Cas lay there panting, “I can’t. It’s too much. I…” he didn’t even finish his whimper as a violent shiver cut him off.  
Charlie managed to get back to her feet and go to him, checking his pulse. “He’s not gonna last much longer if we don’t do something.”  
“Like what?”  
Gadreel watched them curiously.  
With a huff of a mixture of irritation and determination Charlie slid herself into Cas’s harness and shouldered the weight. She groaned when she felt just how heavy it was. His multiple stops had nearly tripled the load. Everyone stared at her in awe for a moment before, across the room, Crowley noticed what was going on.  
A bead of sweat rolled down his now ghostly pale face. “Wouldn’t mind giving us a hand here, would you Zeke?”  
The other man barely looked up from where he was sitting. “This was your challenge Crowley.”  
“Yeah and I’m not gonna bloody make it!”  
“That’s not my problem.”  
Charlie growled. “Will you two shut up?! This is hard enough as it is without you two arguing!”  
“I… ah!” Crowley yelped as he slid to the floor with a thud, his body convulsing and his eyes widening.  
Dean shuffled back, “What’s happening to him?”  
“The poison must be kicking in.” Gadreel said solemnly, “I doubt we have much time before Castiel shares the same fate.”  
From where she was Charlie looked at him, struggling to keep herself upright. “We have plenty of time.” Although, it sounded like she was trying to convinced herself more than the others.  
Two minutes left on Castiel’s timer.  
One minute.  
The buzzer sounded just as she was thinking about passing out. She collapsed next to Cas and watched the fruit of her efforts float down from the ceiling. Gadreel reached over and plucked it out of the air before bending down and injecting Castiel with his cure.

Together they shuffled through to the next chamber. Charlie and Dean supported Cas and Gadreel brought up the rear after 30 seconds of messing around in the last room.

“I am so done with this game.” Dean panted spying their next challenge.

…

Gabriel followed the dark corridor. There were plenty of lights but they kept flickering, which made him probably more nervous than he was before. Who knew what could be lurking around the next corner? After a while he came to a door with a big welcome sign sprayed across it. He pushed it open and stepped inside warily, checking for any traps around the frame.  
In the center of the room stood a table to which was strapped a human figure. From where he was standing Gabriel couldn’t see who it was but he could tell they were female. The girl struggled against her bindings and choked out half-sobs from around her gag, only stopping when she heard Gabriel enter.  
He stood there for a second before taking a step closer, a wave of horror rushed over him as he recognised her. “Jo?!”  
“Gmml grmmmgml uugh!”  
Stumbling forward he pulled the gag out of her mouth. “What did they do to you?” Gabriel tried to undo the straps keeping her in place but they were all tightly secured. “Are you hurt?”  
She shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks, “What’s going on Gabe? Where are we?”  
“Listen to me Jo. This is Jigsaw, we need to get you out of this thing before the trap activates.”  
“Jigsaw?” her head knocked on the table as she lowered it, “well that’s just great.”  
With a huff he stood back to examine the table from a distance. It appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary medical gurney that had been modified with a few extra straps to keep Jo in place. Gabriel bend down, maybe there was a leaver he could push or something to release the bonds? There weren’t any mechanisms on the table so he had hope there. If there wasn’t a trap than there was a good chance they could both get out of there alive. He did his best to ignore the table full of torture implements on the other side of the room.  
They both flinched as a speaker in the corner of the room stuttered to life. Kramer’s rough voice filtered across to them, “As you can see Detective have I have indeed done my research, into every aspect if your life. Jo here has known about your… hobbies, for over a year and yet she has done nothing to bring about your capture. She has been complacent, keeping a serial killer on the streets when her testimony could have brought you down. But, as I have said, this is about you. Today Gabriel, you will learn that killing is something that should twist your stomach at the very thought. There is a whole in the wall at the opposite end of the wall. To pass onto the next level and live all you have to do is balance the scales on the other side. How you choose to do this is up to you, but I feel as though I need to inform you that the weight needed is equal to that of your accomplice. Let the game begin.”

Above the opposite door a timer of fifteen minutes began to count down, on his watch the time had dropped to just over half an hour, they didn’t have time to figure out a solution.  
Bellow him Jo’s sobs bubbled in her throat, “You need to kill me, don’t you? That’s what he wants. For you to kill me and chop me up and put bits of me through that hole.”  
He looked down at her. How could he kill her? Gabriel was too attached to Jo; the girl had practically been there every second since he’d moved to the city. She was his constant. The only thing that kept him calm when something bad happened.  
“I can’t. I can’t do it.” He choked, gazing over her one last time.  
She blinked at him past the tears in her eyes, “I know, but where both dead anyway right?”  
“Jo… I…” What the hell was she suggesting?  
She took a deep breath and let out an exhausted laugh, “Be real Gabe, it’s not like I’m getting out of here. It’d take at least twenty minutes to get me off of this thing in one piece and something’s telling me we don’t have that long.”  
“No, Jo… I can’t… I won’t.”  
She rolled her eyes, “You know as well as I do how this is going down. This is your test- that belt’s got a detonator and it’ll explode if you don’t get through this right? As far as I can see you either go out into the corridor and let it blow or go through that door behind us and see if there’s anyone you can save.”  
8 minutes left.  
“I…”  
“Just get on with it Gabriel!”  
Scrabbling across the room, not really seeing anything, Gabriel grabbed the tray of implements and pulled it over to where the table was set. He’d killed people before but this was different. She didn’t deserve it, not really. She should have been given a chance.  
Picking up a scalpel he looked her in the eyes one last time. She smiled up at him weakly, “Tell my mother I love her ok. She deserves to know that at least.”  
He nodded as she closed her eyes. The taste of blood laid heavy on his tongue as he bit his cheek to keep his hand steady, he couldn’t let it slip, not a millimeter as he brought the blade down across her throat in a swift strike.  
Jo gurgled for a second before going limp on the table, her blond hair turned dark brown as the blood soaked each golden strand.  
There was a brief moment of silence across the room before Gabriel could even breathe again. Time seemed to slow, but the thrill that usually came with killing never came, it never would.  
He was barley aware of what he was doing as he rushed to hack at her limbs with a cleaver from the tray. He couldn’t let himself think of what he’d done. That would be the end of it.  
He’d just killed his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try and upload the last two chapters as soon as possible :)

**Author's Note:**

> Try to keep it in mind that all of the personal traps kind of finish at the same time...
> 
> Written by Zara


End file.
